The creature inside
by Fruitjuice11795
Summary: In a world that runs parralel to the world we all know, Gods fought Demons for supremacy, hoping to destroy one another to clense their world. But there is one thing standing in their way, A half demon demi god, fighting to stop the detruction...
1. Chapter 1

One; Outward Appearances

Where I come from, blood falls as often as rain. Fires rage on, unyielding and as undying as any tale ever told of hell and the underworld. But how is it? That a two hundred year old demi-god demonic child could ever come to raise his hand against those who made him… To over throw the demon who gave birth to him, or the demi god who created him? The truth behind the legends that arose from their demise are exaggerated; They 'quote' history and claim fact, that I arose from the ashes of their love and dawned their end. But in reality it was quite different. I was as ruthless as they, storming the face of the mortal planet, enjoying my freedom, killing, maiming and slaughtering without passion, ever seeking that which held me to the earth.

After all of this killing however, something changed…

The midnight light gave the view a healthy glow, down, through the ravine and into the quiet oriental villages, sleeping, expecting to wake pleasantly and begin their days work again in the morrow. Little did they know that a demi-god demon spawn lay in wait, ready to pounce upon the innocent souls that reside within the small fishing village. Yet just before I could begin with my pass time, destiny had to rear her ugly head, and cast her die upon me, like a net upon a school. I sensed that something was wrong even before I arrived, but combined with my reckless abandon and my lust for excitement, I entered the boundaries regardless, not thinking that my unearthly heritage could be challenged by any mortal force. I was very wrong.

I stood to rise from my crouched position upon the ridge line, surrounded by the cover of the shrub and brush gathered along the peak. But as I arose, I caught the sent of tobacco on the wind, heard the rustle of footsteps across the canyon, and prepared to launch my self to the other side- "Not so fast!" There, right behind me, stood a man. Slightly grizzled, a cigar in his mouth, a torn and fairly worn beret on his head, his brown hair shaggy and unwashed.

In his hand he held a .357 magnum, ebony plating with the words, Dominus Vita Aut Mors etched in gold italics along the barrel. Faster than any ordinary mortal eye could follow, I threw my fist at him, putting all of the rage at not noticing him into my jab.

But like his sneaking, he showed un mortal reflexes and sidestepped my fist gracefully. The weight of my punch not making contact threw me off balance, and that was all he needed. Pain exploded in my stomach, the like I had felt a lot back home, as he brought his steel coated knee straight to my gut. Blood, warm and thick, ran down the back of my neck, long before the pain of the gun butt reached my head, blurring my vision, a bile of blood welling up in my throat.

Fire burned my soul, my demonic pride not allowing me to surrender to the cold embrace of defeat, and so I stayed standing, my rage overtaking my control, burning, twisting, pulsating. Before I knew it, I had begun strike, quicker than any earthly power, striking my assailant over and over again, his blood speckling the grass around us.

Again he stood up, and again I beat him into the ground, willing his life force to perish. But it was not to be, he would not die. Anger turned to irritancy, then to frustration, then to boredom and finally, exhaustion. "W- who the hell are you," I managed to spit, blood hitting the floor in gallons from my mouth. The mysterious assassin retched a little before heaving his body up from his kneeling state. "W-we-"

He began to retch again, "I ain't never met one like you before," He seemed to say to himself, "What are you?" At this, I felt my blood flash fire again for an instant, and hoisted him up off the ground by his throat, squeezing slowly. "Listen Mortal, I. Demand. To. Know. Why. You. Are. Here!" The voice that protruded from my vocal chords was not my own, it was fuelled by the thousands of souls that had befallen my boredom.

"How rude of me, I- I'm Quint" I loosened my grasp to allow him to speak.

"And in case you hadn't you hadn't guessed it, I'm not any old mortal…"

Quint blinked blood from his eyes, that was pouring over his face from the wounds on his forehead. " I was sent on the behalf of the Gods to destroy the abomination." He hit the floor and would usually have recovered easily but being as badly beaten as he was, he just fell to his knees, before leaning back and sitting on the floor. "It's forbidden for a Demi-God to mate with a Demon, especially one as evil and ruthless as Kiaru," He said while lifting a new cigar to his lips, "Now, I had no idea that you would be so… so…"

"Powerful," I said,

"Yeah…" He seemed pained to admit, "Anyway, I was mortal like anyone else when I begun to hunt demons and abominations trespassing in this realm, if you manage to get the attention of a particular god by, for instance killing the spawn of a Demon king that they don't particularly like, then they may take you in, and offer you immortality on behalf of your services."

By now, I had also taken a seat, intrigued by the news from the other worlds.

"So hear I am, and now I have failed my master, who sent me to kill you, because he hates your mother and your father, his own son, for mating and 'loving' the Demon Lady of Vengeance…"

After learning all that I could from the grizzled ANGEL, as he liked to be called, I decided, for the first time since my birth, to let someone live.

Following my strange behaviour came more unusualness, I went back home, back into the real more vengeance, where all of the damned who lived there lives addicted to revenge where purged and punished for their sins during life. If you ever see my mother, then you would not guess that she was the Demon Lady Kiaru, in fact you might even mistake her for a God, which of course is a great insult; But legends tell that she was once a Goddess, the goddess of beauty no doubt, constantly fighting for the High King's hand in marriage, but when the High King chose her sister Aerieth instead, that awakened the dormant passion of revenge buried deep within her soul.

And so, The High King and Aerieth where doomed never to be able to rear young, if they tried, then an agent of Vengeance, often me over the past two hundred years, would be dispatched to end the youngling.

It may seem cruel, pitting a newborn against the likes of me, but when two Gods get it on, their young can pack a punch. But anyway, each time I enter the sanitary gardens, strung with the tortured souls of the recently departed, more than a few here by my doing, she arises from her demonic throne and shifts into the most caring and beautiful woman imaginable, cloaked in misty silk, allowing her blonde hair to fall amongst her shoulder and stroll towards me, stroking the flames as if leaves from an evergreen. And each time she embraces me and plants a soft kiss on my forehead, before whispering, "My son, welcome home…" And this time was no different; she would then listen attentively and await my greeting before returning to her other worldly deeds. Whatever she appeared as to me must have been different to the harboured souls here, as there screams brutally intensify whenever she enters the plane that they are being kept. My mother often spoiled me as a child, succumbing to my every wish, bringing any mortal I desired to my lair to be killed or commended…

After my meeting with Quint, a lot seemed to have changed, I grew a head for knowledge, indulging my self in legends and stories of the GODS and of the DEMON KINGS. There are even legends about my own mother, and how she swore the sin of vengeance upon the HIGH KING and his family, and I was in there too, occasionally as the harbinger of death to one of Aerieth's children… But torn up in my searching, the next time I returned to the mortal world was five years later…

After all of this time, I had no idea if Quint was even still alive, I guessed that the only way to find out would be to slaughter. I got through about three people before I realised that I was bored! Had I, the demon spawn demi god, grown tired of killing after these few years? I'm afraid it was the truth, my knowledge search had lead to a dormancy the likes of which I had never met before. Whilst doing research, I uncovered many strange things, both fun and horrific. There had been other people like me before, not nearly as powerful, but the same non the less. And because of their heritage, their moods could change dramatically over small spaces of time, and right now, my stomach twisted whenever I saw a woman.

I had never experienced such an anomaly before, I knew exactly what to do if necessary, but in the past the though never even arose my attention, now I could not keep it out of there.

But aside from the new found lust, I had to keep a straight head, and so begun my search for Quint…

4


	2. Outward appearences

Two; The creature inside

A demon, twelve foot high and filled with boils, that instead of puss, where filled with magma, boiling, flaming lava, hotter than any other life form on the planet, began lifting and crushing fleeing people; One in each of its three tentacle like embodiments that I will refer to as arms. I was completely content with watching at first, laughing as overweight men tripped and landed within its fiery grasp, watching as they where slowly compressed, alive still as the bones ripped through the layers of skin, cracking and snapping before eventually crumbling. To this day I have no idea how it kept those people alive after all of that, I have tried many times to do the same, but my victims just pass out before they feel any real pain.

I was in a place known as Paris, hoping that because of this slaughter Quint would turn up, which he didn't. So I watched gleefully as these people where killed, three by three, until; A beautiful young woman, slender and tall fell into its target zone. I felt my stomach swell with desire as she screamed, tears raining down her cheeks, and made a petty attempt at running away. My eyes widened with horror and before I realised what I was doing I was charging straight at it. Before I got there, she fell, head hitting the floor and blood oozing from the wound, driving the creature on.

She regained some form of consciousness before she was crushed, again, I do not know how but whatever, and continued to scream as it ever so slowly began to squeeze. Some of her ribs cracked and she screeched a cry of sheer pain, before hitting the ground, alive. Before the demon had managed to kill her, I arrived. Launching myself through the air and landing a kick on its 'forearm' region, tearing through and grabbing the woman from the floor.

I lay her down on the blood-washed pavement near a building, feeling the cold of her skin against my hands, that pain in my stomach almost unbearable. When suddenly I felt myself being lifted away, off of the ground and up into the air.

The demon swung at me as I fell, like a base ball, with one of its two remaining 'arms', connecting perfectly and sending me spiralling off and into a building, smashing through the wall and landing in a heap underneath all of the rubble.

It took a great effort to push of all of the debris that lay over me, then to stager to my feat it took even more. But I got up in time to see it coil around the girl once again. Just like me, it seemed fascinated by her. But I was ready this time, and faster, before it managed to lay a 'hand' on her, I was there, and grabbing its middle tentacle, I wrenched the limb apart, acid and blood pouting over me… Smart move. The battle raged on for a little longer, five years without exercise really takes its toll on you!

But never the less in my burned, torn clothes, the black leather of my jacket, burnt a pale white by the acidic blood; I sat victoriously on top of its corpse, panting with my head down. My own blood dripped casually from my mouth and onto the floor. By now, the woman was awake, and groaning, the police sirens had sounded and soon enough there where people all around, mumbling, grunting, the someone clapped. Then another. And another, until the entire crowd had begin to clap and cheer, all the while the woman from the floor was loaded into a medical van.

The demon beneath me began to shudder and shake, and as I stood, my coat falling to the ground, it burst into flame, tearing away at the final traces of the creature, leaving no remains. I learned later that the ANGELS have a way of dealing with this sort of situation, which involves a mass memory insert, but I had no idea that it mattered at the time, and so just walked away, my hands in my pockets, grinning wildly at the excitement of the fight.

The power from that demon was perfect, and from that moment on, I knew that in order to truly have fun, I would have to find more, and forget about killing humans… for now.

I shrugged the rest of the tattered rags off my back and began to walk, the crowd parting to let me through, photographers flashing away at me, covered in blood.

For a long time I hunted demons, finding killing, gaining numerous praises and thanks from people, and over time the stiffness of five years with no routine wore off and I was back to my peak, ready for anything. And over this time, I learned how to act sanely in human cities that I would pass through, experimenting with hundreds of different women, promising them fame and glory in the next life.

Demon after demon fell to my power, and still I wore the same rags that I had that first day, not seeing any reason to change, unless of course my pants where to get destroyed. And so I travelled, bare backed, across the land, searching for any decent fight, and abandoning my search for Quint. As destiny would have it however, once I stopped looking, I found them all too often.

My first encounter was in Austria, high in the mountains near a small mining town. At midnight every year, on the 31st of October, a man, caped in black would arise from the ground and feast upon the virgin blood of any girl who had reached the age of sixteen. Upon hearing this I headed straight for it, any opportunity for all of the new women in a town to thank me…

I got there in two weeks, a whole month before the 31st, and with nothing better to do, I sat, and waited, and waited, and waited and waited. Each day the townsfolk staring, asking questions; "Who is that strange man?" "How can he sit in the snow without a shirt?" "Why is he here?" Etc.

Until at long last the night finally arrived. That day dragged as long as the entire month behind it. The fright could be seen throughout the village, people hauling their belongings into cars, leaving for the night. Then there were the other less fortunate people who had no such means of transportation and had to comply by heavily locking their homes in the hope that they would remain unnoticed. Eventually the sun set behind the golden horizon and my heart began to race faster than any human heart is capable of. I waited for hours, deep into the night, perched on the church tower, over looking the village square. The wind blew strong that night, that was the only sound, the animals of the forest must have sensed that something was wrong, because non of them moved from there perches. Then there, below, fainter than any mortal hearing could ever detect, I heard the swift and fleet footsteps of a murderer,

Immediately afterwards, the footsteps where accompanied by a chorus of blood curdling screams. Licking my lips at the thought of blood and dropped from my perch atop the tower and landed gracefully and without pause at the scene of the screaming. The orphanage housed three beautiful young girls who had just become of age. Over the previous month I had seen them walk by, fetching pales of water and food from the market, and upon each passing my stomach tightened, I had thought about leaving my perch to entertain one of them, but my notion of, the more virgin blood the better, over ruled my primal thoughts.

One girl, the one with jet black hair, known as Idrith, lay clasped in a mans arms, his mouth upon her neck, draining her of her blood. The other children and the two other girls, where frozen in shock, screaming and screaming, but to no avail. According to the rumours, many brave fathers had stood up to this man, only to have been slaughtered in front of his family in vain no doubt. I enjoyed the thought of fighting such a man, and without hesitation, planted a forceful kick to him, sending his startled body through the wall. I stepped outside to meet him, but he was gone, the only trace of him being the hole in the wall. I stepped out into the clearing, neat the fountain, waiting. Every towns person who dared was peeking at me through their windows and spy holes, praying to whatever deity that they followed that they survived.

The wind changed, and a whip cracked, following it a surge of pain in my lower back, a hot thick fluid running over my skin. Gasps arose from the townsfolk nearby. The wound burned tremendously, but I had taken more pain throughout the past few months and ignored this easily. Still I listened. The wind changed, and for a second time, the whip cracked, searing flesh from bone across my side, blood smacking the pavement all around. Behind me Idrith had come around, groggily speaking to the others. This had gone on for a time now, and boredom had begun to set in. "If your not planning on showing yourself, then I shall end you now…" I called, hoping my provocation would lead the coward to reveal himself. My wounds burned hot, like they had been freshly cut even though they had already begun to heal.

Over the past few months, my upper body had become a mass of scars, I have almost completely mastered the art of instant regeneration but like to keep scars as a reminder of each conflict. So I listened, carefully for his reply, "How will you do that hmmm? You do not even know when I will strike…" He mused, mockingly.

The wind changed, a whip cracked, but did not connect. I sidestepped the moment the wind changed, wrapped my forearm around the whip and heaved with all my strength, feeling the weight of my hidden opponent lose balance and fall flat at my feet. He was a scrawny man, dressed in black with a top hat and a long moustache. He leapt to his feet, cursing, staring me straight in the eye. "You can not kill me mortal, I am a descendant of Daverac, Demon King of Necromancy and the dead…" With one blow I sent him gliding across the square and into the fountain; which cracked under the force of the flight. Water frayed into the air, giving off a fine mist, liquefying the blood over me and allowing it to drain off.

The demi-demi demon spawn began to whimper, clawing for the ground, confused and in pain. I raised my boot, ready to crush his head, but before I had the chance, a gun sounded and the strange man exploded, showering me in blood and other messy entrails. The time had come for me to acquire new apparel. Now I was the confused one, wondering why the latest victim of my bloodlust had just combusted and now lay fermented and all over me!

I looked up, very annoyed at the loss of satisfaction from killing this imbecile to find myself looking into the eyes of a flawless woman, skin pale and eyes vibrant, looking as though she had been captured in perfection at the age of twenty for eternity. In her hand she clasped a chrome desert eagle, still smoking from the barrel. She was in every aspect and angel, one that turned out to actually be and ANGEL…

Three; Dynamic Reposition

Niraneye was an ANGEL, one of the best. She had been around for almost as long as I had, and was hired by the same GOD as Quint, my grandfather, Eural god of peace and mercy. She had seen the battle and thought it best to interfere and then to continue and try and kill me, being a demon hunter and all. She may have succeed as well, because while she was fighting, I was trying to get my point across, after several blows to the head and gut a managed to get the word Quint out, which stopped her in her tracks…

6


End file.
